


Here Lies My Past, May It Stay Buried

by BannedBookReader



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Fantastic Racism, Homelessness, If yj won't give wyynde a backstory I will, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, search for redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22795261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BannedBookReader/pseuds/BannedBookReader
Summary: Wyynde was just released from prison, and now has to come face to face with his past.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15





	Here Lies My Past, May It Stay Buried

Here Lies My Past, May it Stay Buried

Atlantiean prisons weren't as bad as the rumors would leave you to believe. Granted they were still awful, but when Orin had taken the crown he'd done what he could to make them fair and livable. There was only so much he could do about those working in them however. And those who had an uncomfortable amount of pride for their nation and laws were often the ones running them, leaving little room for sympathy from any guards or other workers. One of the many reasons Wyynde was glad to have been released early. As it was he already had a reduced sentence for turning himself in and giving them anything he knew about Orm's Purist operation. So he never expected to also be released early for good behavior. Something the King added, it had never been an option in Poseidon's prisons until his reign. Or any Atlantis prison as far as Wyynde knew.

He floated outside the prison unsure what to do now. He was free, mostly, and while that was a blessing, it was also a curse. He had no money, no friends, no home, nothing. Even the clothes on his back were given to him by the prison when he was released. It would no doubt mark him when he made his way through town, and possibly taint any hope he had of getting a job. He supposed he could steal an outfit, but breaking the law so soon after being released seemed like a bad idea. Maybe he could go to one of the towns on the outskirts of the kingdom, they probably wouldn't recognize the prison clothes. But without any food he probably wouldn't make it to any. By Kordax's Black Soul, he didn't even have a knife to hunt with. 

For the first time in his life, he had no idea what to do. But, he knew he couldn't stay floating in front of the prison, so he set off for the city. As he approached more people began to spring up periodically, eyeing him suspiciously. One family even pulled their child in close at the site of him. He deserved it of course, but it still hurt. 

He needed a change of clothes. Really he needed a job. But needing both led to an uncomfortable Catch 22.

The first shop he tried to enter, he barely made it through the door before someone was yelling at him. He didn't speak the language but he understood the meaning. He wasn't welcome. The memory of the harsh rejection hit him hard and again he understood more clearly what exactly he had done to so many others. Of course he'd come to realize how wrong he'd been, otherwise he never would have turned himself in. But he had treated others like how he was being treated now. And worse, so much worse. For things they couldn't change or hide. He could at least take his clothes off, never mention his past. Granted there was something about him that would make him a target for the Purists. And had in the end. But it wasn't visible. His stomach twisted as his thoughts churned in his head. 

"What are you doing here?"

Wyynde's head shot up. If the pain in his stomach could have gotten worse it would have. "I was just released." He knew how small his voice was, and he hoped his refusal to make eye contact came across as the shame it was. 

La'gaan narrowed his eyes. He was looking at one of the people responsible for hurting his friends. Hell, for hurting him. "From where?" One look at his clothes and he knew, but he wanted to hear him say it. 

"Do you not know?"

"From where?" 

Wyynde let out a sigh, pushing the water around him. "The Poseidon’s Prison." 

"Why?"

"Was I released?"

"Yes."

"Good behavior. And I turned myself in..." Gave up anyone he'd ever called a friend, nothing major.

"Hmm." La'gaan eyed him skeptically. It's not that he didn't believe him, just that sometimes the truth was impossible to accept. "If you plan on going back to your old ways-"

"I don't!" His head shot up and for the first time he looked into La'gaan's red eyes. "I. I've changed. And… and I'm sorry. For everything. Truly. I don't expect you to accept my apology-"

"I don't."

He was quiet for a second before continuing. "I just wanted to tell you while you were here." He floated there in silence, not receiving a response. A thought slipped into his head. "If it would make you feel better, you can strike me down."

"What?" Shock over took anger for a split second on La'gaan's face.

"If...if it would be a help to you. Let me be useful somehow." 

"You're offering me revenge?" 

"Yes."

La'gaan actually scoffed at that. "No."

"Why not?" 

"Because I'm better than you." And with that he pushed off, leaving Wyynde in his wake. 

He was right of course. Wyynde ran his hand through his hair. Redemption was going to be harder than he thought. 

"That's rough, kid," an old man spoke. He'd witnessed the whole thing. 

"I deserve it."

"Maybe. Still rough." 

Wyynde turned to look at the man. If he had to guess he hailed from Tritonis based on the tail. Long and purple, with thin frill that moved with the water. Something a past version, a wrong version, of himself would turn away at. Or worse. 

"What'd you do?" 

"To La'gaan or…?" He motioned towards his outfit.

"They're not related?"

Bile burned his throat. He hadn't admitted it to anyone since he turned his back on them. And now he was going to admit it to someone who had probably been attacked by Purists more than once. "I...I was a Purist." He didn't look at the man but felt the water move where he pulled away. 

"Oh. But you're different now?" 

He looked up slowly. "Yes." It was more of a whisper than anything. 

"I'm going to be honest with you kid. I don't think I like you much. Now that might change in the future but right now, based on what I've seen." He shook his head. "But."

Wyynde's heart stopped. But? 

"- when I first got to this city someone showed me an act of kindness. Rare where I come from. So I'm passing it along." He motioned to the small store he was sitting in front of. "Pick out one outfit and when you have a job come back and pay me."

"Are you serious?"

"I am." 

Heat built up behind Wyynde's eyes. This was probably the first act of kindness he'd experienced since- Well since he began to rethink his role in the Purists. The outfit he chose was cheap, he'd have to pay for it eventually after all, and didn't quite fit. In fact there were very few pants options in the store at all, so in the end he just chose the cheapest option that came closest to his size. Just two years ago he would have died before accepting charity from someone with a tail. From anyone slightly outside the Purists' twisted ideology. And now here he was, relying on said charity. He thanked the man again and headed out. Tossing his prison clothes in a waste bin down the street. 

He didn't know where he was going. His priority should be to find a job. But in the city that wasn't always the easiest option. He decided to spend the day building up his strength and then head to the salt mines a few miles away in the morning. They were always hiring, for better or worse. Usually worse. 

Instead, he swam to the statue garden outside the palace. 

While he didn't need a physical representation of his Gods to pray--he'd prayed to them through his entire sentence after all-- it sometimes helped to see them in all their grandeur. As he approached one of the oldest statues, a relic from when Atlantis sat on the Surface, he felt eyes on him. But after a quick look around, he decided he must just be paranoid. 

La'gaan ducked behind one of the larger statues just before Wyynde had noticed.

Wyynde kneeled in the soft sand, small creatures scurrying away from under it when he did. He stopped for a moment to watch a small crab, jealous about how clueless it was to the world. Then he returned to the matter at hand. He didn't know how long he prayed, for forgiveness, for a better future, for the ability to forgive himself, but eventually his arms got tired from being raised above his head so he lowered them. He left his palms face up though and continued. At some point a woman joined him. She didn't kneel, he wasn't even sure she was praying. And maybe she wasn't. 

His stomach growled, loud and painfully. He grabbed at it in shock. It made sense, he hadn't eaten all day, but he had completely lost track of time. The woman looked down at him. Then he saw it. She worked for the king. A member of the Royal Guard. On her sleeve was the medical emblem of the palace. She didn't say anything to him, just dropped a few gold coins at his knees. More kindness, this time from someone who worked closely with his former enemy.

"Why?" He asked, watching her turn away. 

"If you starve to death on Royal property it's my problem," was all she said before leaving. He scooped up the money. Enough for two meals if he was smart. He sincerely hoped he was still smart. He needed at least one thing going for him. 

Just outside the garden was a small booth, it didn't even qualify as a shop or restaurant, advertising cheap seaweed wraps. He pushed aside the small cloth that separated the inside from the street. The Gods were truly pushing his past at him today. Behind the counter was two women, one at the counter, one making food, and a girl, about his age. All with iridescent scales across their arms and face. 

"Hello!" A woman greeted him happily, waving at him with webbed hands. 

"Um hi." He took a seat at one of the stools. "May I have whatever your cheapest option is?" Gods he was pathetic. The woman blinked at him with black eyes. 

"Of course." She looked over her shoulder at the person fixing food. "You're in luck. My wife is the best at piling high cheap food. Isn't that right Angel Fish?"

"Not in front of the customers, hun." 

Wyynde felt his throat tighten. He choked on the water around him. The girl, who appeared to be cleaning up after the cook, gave him a strange look. 

"Is there a problem?" She asked, voice hard.

"No! No of course not! I... I'm sorry. I was reminded of someone that's all." He didn't want to think about that. About him. That was his past. This was his future.

She seemed to relax some but kept a harsh eye on him. He was happy to accept his wrap and rush back to the garden. Still feeling as if there were eyes on him. It was probably the best thing he'd eaten in his life. Or at the very least since he went to prison. He definitely ate it much too quickly and gave himself a different kind of stomach ache.

That night he slept under the statue of one of the love Goddesses. A slightly newer statue than the others, built from ocean rock shortly after the Fall. He couldn't decide if he'd been cursed by her or blessed. Certainly his life would be easier if he loved women. But if he did he'd still be a Purist arguably. He'd never have confessed to someone who turned on him. Who turned everything on him. These thoughts bounced around in his head keeping him awake most of the night. 

When he awoke in the morning his heart stopped. La'gaan was floating over him, scaly arms crossed over his chest. Had he changed his mind about the revenge? Wyynde didn't speak, just accepted his fate. If one of the King's apprentices wanted to kill him so be it. 

"I was watching you yesterday. Are you really starting over?"

"Yes." 

"Then the King has a job. It's difficult work, with a stubborn man, and long hours. You'd be required to basically do anything the palace needed of you, without complaint. And at the first sign you're going back to your old ways, you're out." 

It took Wyynde a moment to process. Was this really happening? Finally he found his voice. "Why?"

"Because, like I already told you, I'm better than you." And with that he was gone, off to be a hero. To save people and make their lives better, not worse. It was the worst possible revenge.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope La'gaan didn't come across to much of a jerk. It just felt he'd harbor some resentment after everything. 
> 
> Special thank you to writeroffates for beta reading this and tarantula-hawk-wasp for answering my ridiculous 3 am question.
> 
> Comments appreciated and welcome


End file.
